Sex, Lies & Deceit
by K3IR
Summary: Set in the two months before 'Happily Ever After'. See what happens leading up to that moment. Rating *will* change to 'M' after first chapter. You've been warned. Maltara for obvious reasons.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so a couple of you wanted some sort of 'second chapter' or something to 'Happily Ever After', but I liked that story as a one shot, so consider this to be a companion piece of some kind… Yeah.**

**It will be multi-chapter. And its set within the two months before 'Happily Ever After', so between the very first time (which was written in 'Happily Ever After'), to the eighth chapter which will coincide with 'Happily Ever After' and the ninth will be set after it; if that made any sense to you at all.**

**When the next chapter is uploaded, the rating will change to 'M' so make sure you stay posted with it and change your viewings from 'K-T' to 'view all'. HEAVILY RATED 'M' AFTER THIS CHAPTER.**

**Disclaimer: [insert smart ass comment about how I don't own Cause of Death]**

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0000

The first 'official' time it happened is unexpected, but not unwelcome.

It's been a week since she first showed up on his doorstep, sobbing and broken hearted.

Just because he wasn't surprised that she didn't want to bring that night up, doesn't mean he was any less hurt that she wanted to forget about it. He thought they shared something special… Apparently she was only in it for a quick fix.

The tension that had been building up for a year and a half was all released in a one night stand, a one night stand that he can't even brag about because she's a married woman. Not that he would brag about his sex life, unless he nailed like a supermodel or something.

He'd be able to sleep easier at night if she just let him talk about it, but the only conversations of late are case related, if they don't have a case, then they don't speak.

This is really screwing with his mind.

The amount of times he's debated going to a bar and having some meaningless one night stand this week is ridiculous. _Why won't she just let him talk?_

He's brought out of his contemplations by the timid knocking on his door, he knows who it is, she had to show up sooner or later; he doesn't want to answer, he _really _doesn't want to answer, but when the knocking on the door sounds again, only this time more forceful, he figures that there's no getting rid of her.

Looking through the peephole only confirms who's on the other side; he takes one deep breath before opening the door,

"Well if it isn't the runaway bride, tell me, does your husband know where you are?" he sneers.

"If I was the runaway bride, I would've done us all a favour and left Oscar at the altar, now are you going to let me in?"

"Why, so we can have a repeat of the other night? No, I'm good."

"I just want to talk."

"That's how the other night started…" He's being difficult, he knows it, but after last time he's a bit sceptical.

"Mal," she sighs exhaustedly, "please."

He considers it for a few seconds, then stands back and opens the door wider, "fine."

0000

They're standing in his kitchen; he's leaning up against the fridge, arms across his chest and a scowl residing on his face. She's leaning against the sink cupboards, much the same as Mal, although instead of a scowl, she's wearing an apologetic look.

"Does Oscar know you're here?" He breaks the silence.

"No, he's away."

"Where?"

"Business trip in Boston."

Silence.

She takes a deep breath calculating his mood before proceeding, "I want to say I'm sorry, I want to say I regret what happened the other night. But I'm not and I don't. And I know with the lack of communication over the last couple of days has probably given you your doubts, but I don't want to forget it either." She swallows hard, now unable to look him in the eyes. She isn't here for the soul purpose of screwing with his emotions, she just thought she should clear it up, get rid of his doubts, if he wanted to forget it, then fine, they'd forget it, pretend it never happened, no matter how much it killed her inside to even think about it.

She doesn't know that he's moved until she notices his feet come to a stop in front of her, doesn't realise how much she's desired his touch since she left his place the other morning until his scent assaults her nose. She stands up straighter, arms still strongly folded across her chest. He recognises this stance; it's her 'I'm putting on a brave face, so please don't hurt me' stance.

"The only thing I regret is letting you walk out that door the other morning." He tells her honestly, hand coming up to cup her cheek, watching her visibly relax in front of him.

She leans into the touch, closing her eyes and smiling sadly, "that doesn't mean that what we did was right. It was wrong; it was really, _really_ wrong."

"I know." He agrees, leaning in further.

"Just because I don't want to forget about it doesn't mean we should do it again."

"Uh huh…"

"Mal…" She sighs against his lips.

"Shh," he says, before silencing any further argument with his lips.

His lips move softly over hers, unsure to whether she's going to push him away or not. But when she stands up straighter, pressing her body further into his, he takes it as a good sign that she won't be letting him go anywhere; for now.

He nips at her bottom lip, eliciting a moan from her as she curls her fingers into the waist of his shirt; he breaks the kiss to run his mouth down the side of her neck, catching skin between his teeth and biting down gently. He can't leave any marks. Leaving marks is a sign to say that she was his, she wasn't. At the end of the day, she was still married to Oscar, at the end of the day, he's the man that she'll return home to, and at the end of the day he'll only be left with memories.

The haze going through his mind starts lifting once he's worked out that she's trying to tug his shirt free from his pants, her lips moving over his jaw as she starts undoing buttons.

They were really doing this; again.

He was going to wake up to an empty bed; again.

The moment she finally frees his shirt from his pants, leaving it hanging open, he snatches her wrists into both his hands and winces as she gasps and whimpers, trying to pull away.

"I know I started it. But I can't do this knowing that you aren't going to be there in the morning." His grip loosens a bit; enough to make the pained expression in her eyes disappear.

Her features soften as she slowly pulls her wrists from his grasp, placing a hand on the side of his face much like he did minutes ago, "I'll be here," she whispers against his lips, "I don't know for how long, but I'll be here."

He turns his head to kiss the palm of her hand, eye contact never wavering. He's screwed, he is completely, utterly and totally screwed, he thinks as he pushes her further into the edge of the bench top.

0000

Later, – when they've somehow made it to the bedroom – as they lay in a tangle of limbs and sheets, she, laying on her stomach, arms bent under the pillow and sheets pooled around her lower back, he, drawing lazy patterns on said back, Mal can't help but think how long it'll take until they're caught, how long it'll take for Oscar to figure it out, how long till their perfect little bubble of bliss and ignorance is popped, and they're thrown back into reality, the reality that she's been married off to someone that isn't him.

"Stop it." He hears her mumble into the pillow.

"Stop what?" the ministrations on her back falter for a second in his confusion, before she moans her protest and he continues.

"Stop thinking so loudly. Sleep." And that's all there is to it, not five seconds after she utters her last word, does her breathing even out. Not long after, he succumbs to his drowsiness as well.

0000

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**You all thought you were gonna get a smut chapter didn't you? Ya'll thought it was gonna swing that way didn't ya? – Maniacal laughter commences –. **

**Guys, I'm easing my way into the smut, and this is a multi-chap fic, so hopefully you'll get some smut sometime down the line. If not, do not despair, one day I'll write a smutty chapter so smutty, that your eyes will pop out of your head and your brain will explode. No, I can't promise this :P **


	2. Chapter 2

_**Cozimbatman**_** was at my house the other day and she went to go and read the first chapter before I uploaded it… Long story short I slammed my laptop shut and may or may not have jammed her fingers in between the base and the top. Sorry not sorry.**

**I was going to post this on Friday, but I can't seem to get through chapter three at the moment, so I'll try finishing that for you ASAP, I have my year 10 formal tomorrow night, going out on the weekend, then next week I'm going overseas on a 'language trip' with school, I don't know if I'll have chapter three posted before I leave, but I hope I do!**

**WARNING: Explicit. Not even joking. If you're uncomfortable with it, don't just walk away from this story, run away. Run far, far away. Also has a swear word. And another thing, don't start bitching and complaining that this is 'out there' and 'inappropriate', guys, it's rated 'M' for a reason, and the amount of requests I have gotten to write a story like this is bordering on adorably ridiculous, and if you are complaining for the material and not for my poor writing skills, I will internet bitch slap you. You've been warned.**

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0000

The second time it happens is urgent and desperate, and absolutely nothing like the first.

She looks broken when he opens the door, he can tell she's been crying by the tear tracks and mascara marks that she's tried to cover up, her eyes also have that distinct puffiness that she'll never be fully able to get rid of when she's been crying.

A twinge of guilt eats at him from the inside, this time it isn't Oscar that's driven her to his doorstep, it isn't Oscar who has put that look on her face. It was him. This was his doing.

Before he has the chance to say anything, she's on him, hands weaving straight into his hair, tongue instantly finding its way into his mouth. His arms immediately wrap around her waist, drawing her in closer. She's pulling at the short strands of hair at the nape of his neck, breaking away from his mouth so she can worry then skin behind his ear between her teeth. Their breath mingles together, raw emotion fills the room, he slams her back into the door, simultaneously shutting it, he hears the dull thud of her head hitting it and winces, if it hurts her, she does a good job of hiding it, as her kisses only become more frantic and frenzied. This time wasn't going to be as slow and sweet as their other endeavours, this time she wanted the hair pulling and biting and for him to pound her into the wall like the world was going to end.

He almost died today. No, the whole world wouldn't have ended, but _her_ world would have.

She wanted the kind of sex that would leave them both bruised and sore tomorrow. And he was happy to supply it.

He would've liked to slow down and feel it out, he would've liked it if she came over and they did this under better circumstances, but he couldn't deny the fact that he wanted her legs wrapped around his waist as he drilled into her, so hard and so fast that she physically couldn't walk away from it, so hard and so fast that she'd forget Oscar's name. He wanted to do it until it hurt, until they hurt each other's bodies as badly as they hurt each other's hearts.

Clothes were ripped, buttons flew across the room, and she couldn't find it in her to point out that she'd have to stop off at the precinct to find spare clothes in her locker, or go home looking like she was just thoroughly fucked. He wouldn't have listened anyway, he was kissing down the length of her body, not stopping until the fabric of her pants got in his way, he growled, ripping them open and pressing open mouthed kisses to the front of her panties. He moaned as she whimpered, her knees buckling as she pressed both of her hands into his shoulders to keep herself from falling. Before she knew it, his face was right in front of hers again as his hand made its way into her underwear, cupping her, she moaned again as his head dipped to her neck, kissing the column, grabbing flesh between his teeth as his fingers started stroking. His knee made its way between her legs, pressing his fingers further into her.

Before she knew what was happening, he'd removed his hand and dropped them to the floor. Her hands were scrambling at his belt, working hard to free him, he straddled her waist long enough to discard his already ripped and ruined shirt, flinging it across the room as he leant back down over her, ripping her panties off and throwing them in the direction of his shirt. After much fumbling, she finally freed him, pushing his pants past his waist and down his legs. He didn't waste any time, as a moment later, her legs were wrapped around him and he was pushing into her with one sure thrust.

She squeezed his hips and convulsed around him as she rolled them over, keeping up the hard and fast pace. As she pushed harder and harder, he heard the words that he knew would have been echoing in her head come out as grunts against the crook of his neck, "You. Almost. Died."

He rolls them back over, burying himself impossibly deeper inside her, "I know." He grunts out against her cheek.

He hears a broken sob that she's tried to hold back, which only makes him push harder; trying so desperately hard to make them both forget the hurt they've caused each other, not only for today, but the last six months as well.

She pulls him closer, nails digging and scratching down his back, whimpers emanating from her mouth. He slows his pace, lifting his head to look down at her, guilty eyes roaming over her sad face, he brought a hand up and traced over her bruised lips, his mouth follows ever so gently to kiss those same lips, he starts moving again, slower, more cautiously.

It didn't take long till she was arching underneath him and he could feel her closing around him like a vice. It was his name cried from her mouth as she came, that finally – _finally!_ – drove him over that same cliff as he looked directly into her eyes and took his turn crying out her name.

0000

Later, much later, she was pressed against him in bed, leg hooked around one of his, and her arm wrapped solidly around his middle as her head was on his chest, listening to his heat beat.

He was running his hands gently through her tangled hair, doing whatever he could to help her sleep. He knew she was fighting it, knew that if she let herself close her eyes, she'd be right back to where she was mere hours ago, standing in the middle of a street looking on with other officers in horror as they heard a deafening gun shot, then watched on as one of the cities toughest detectives was brought to his knees in pain.

Yes he was wearing his vest, and yes it hurt like a bitch, but what hurt more was looking up at Natara and seeing her being pulled back by Jeremy, holding her to his chest as she tried to free herself, the terrified look in her eyes as she watched her partner hit the pavement and other officers draw their guns, crawling towards their murder suspect, who was now to be tried and put away with attempted murder on a police officer.

He can feel her nodding off, then shaking the sleep out of her head and rubbing her eyes. This is his fault; she was losing sleep over _him_. He sinks further down into bed, letting her head fall delicately next to his on the pillow, he kisses her forehead, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist.

"Go to sleep, Nat. I'll be here when you wake up." He emphasizes his statement by giving her a chaste kiss, pulling her closer.

Seconds later, her breathing's evened out as she gives in to the much needed sleep, leaving him to watch over her.

0000

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**So much for 'easing my way into the smut', ARE YOU ALL HAPPY? I CAVED TO THE PEERPRESHER, I DID IT!**

**Not gonna lie, slightly proud of myself for exiting my little comfort bubble with this. **


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't think I'll ever get use to writing smut. But, apparently, it's what the people love, and who am I to deny the people? **

**Sorry it took a while for this to be updated, I was away… And I thought that I should probably update this soon before my procrastination skills worsened. Heh… Sorry... Again.**

**This story is based off the weather in Australia at the moment, when it's Christmas time here, it's our summer, so it's above 30 degrees Celsius **_**all the time**_**, I'm dying here folks. **

**WARNING: this one is a bit more detailed then the last. Sorry not sorry.**

**Disclaimer: Disclaimed. I think. If not, this is awkward.**

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0000

The third time it happened was full of pure, unadulterated lust, and absolutely no regrets.

The heatwave that had been going on for almost a week now had everyone on edge. Due to the heat, murder rates were down, it seemed that the heat was affecting sociopaths as well as functioning people.

Power in the precinct was cut off – save for phone lines – to conserve it for during the day when the heat was at its worse, meaning officers carried around flashlights and those battery powered candles as well as battery powered fans that honestly didn't make that big of a difference.

Because of the humidity, uniform regulations had been overlooked, beat cops walked around in their regulation pants or shorts, women had been sporting wife-beaters and men had been wearing the lightest material shirts in their closets. _She_ had favoured a denim blue pair of shorts and a dull coloured wife-beater – today she wore a black one, which highlighted, well… everything –, and instead of wearing her sensible high heels, she'd found an ancient pair of chucks that looked as if they hadn't seen the light of day since she was a college student.

All it took was a heated look from across the bullpen, his eyes, dark with desire, didn't go unnoticed by her. And the way her teeth drew in her bottom lip as she gave him possibly the sexiest smirk he'd ever seen, _certainly _didn't go unnoticed, which is how they'd ended up in the stairwell somewhere between the garage and autopsy.

0000

He held the fan up in front of his face, closing his eyes against the mildly-warm air that blew against his sweat covered face; it was almost midnight how the hell could it still be this hot? He didn't even notice her sneak up behind him until he felt her breath against his ear,

"Isn't that report due tomorrow?" she smiles as the noticeable shiver runs down his spine.

"But mu-um it's too hot to think!" he whines, putting his fan down and spinning his chair around.

She finds herself standing in between his legs, eye-level with him as her hands rest against the arms of his chair. Her breath catches in her throat, standing up straighter as she looks around for anyone who'd just witnessed what happened, satisfied that they're in the clear, she crosses her arms across her chest and looks down at her feet. His smile widens at her blush, looking around, he cups the back of her thigh, bringing her in closer.

"Mal," she warns, moving to take a step back, stopped by another hand that reaches out to cup the back of her other leg.

"What? No one's looking."

"Someone might."

"Everyone's too busy dying from heat exhaustion to notice us." He smiles reassuringly at her.

She shakes her head and rolls her eyes, moving out of his space and walking around to her desk. He watches as she sits down with a huff, obviously the heat's getting to her too, she's been fidgety, hitting the gym a lot more often than anyone should in this heat, and her mood has gotten shitter and shitter by the day, his eyes darken as he realises just _how _this heatwave has gotten to her. He watched as her nose wrinkled in disgust at the paperwork lying on the table, barely able to see the writing in the torchlight.

She stood up abruptly, pushing her chair back more forceful than necessary, "I'm going to the gym."

He made a face, "Again? Did they open up a bar down there or something?"

She didn't even bother acknowledging him, just walked in the direction of the stairwell.

About an hour later, she still wasn't back, and now he was getting fidgety, with no one to flirt with, the boredom was settling in, and boredom combined with this heat? It made for one _very _unhappy detective. Looking around, he notices that most officers were crowding the water cooler or half asleep at their desks, standing up, he snatches the torch from his desk, turning it on as he enters the stairwell.

0000

She steps out of the locker room, towel drying her hair, the quick session with the punching bag had helped a little, enough to take the edge off anyways, she could have gone for another half hour, forty-five minutes, followed by a cool down on the treadmill, but who knew when Anders would leave his office and grace them with his presence? She wasn't in the mood to be reprimanded for leaving her desk.

She could hear the medical examiner on the stairwell below her leave through the garage door exit, above her; she heard the door for the bullpen open. She thought it was Anders, who'd finally left his office to see that she wasn't where she was supposed to be, and came down looking for her. She got a nice surprise when behind the blinding light of a torch; she came face to face with Mal.

That session with the punching bag, definitely not long enough.

"Nat, what took you so long? You were gone forever," he whined, dropping the torch away from her eyes.

"Mal, your version of forever is about fifteen minutes." She smirks, moving to walk past him.

"It felt longer." He complained.

"Why, because you didn't have anyone to annoy?" she retorts, climbing up the next flight of stairs.

She really could've used an extra half hour with the punching bag.

"Hey," he calls out, grabbing her arm, noticing the bite in her words, "you okay?" he asked, dropping his voice. The voice usually accompanied the look, ever since they started this… thing, he would throw it at her a lot to shake her up. Any other day she'd ignore it, any other day she'd narrow her eyes and send that smirk at him, the smirk that always screamed 'later, I promise', but today was not any other day, and she didn't have the patience to wait until 'later'.

"Come here," she ordered, grabbing him by the hand and leading him down a few flights of stairs, they were now somewhere between autopsy and the garage, with the medical examiner already gone, and no one coming through the underground parking for a while, this was probably the safest place she could think of for whatever they were about to do.

He looked at the door to the parking above them, then to the door to autopsy below them, then faced her, her hand tightened around his as his chest brushed against hers as they regarded each other with lust filled eyes, she could feel his breath coming out in short puffs against her face and she was sure he'd be able to hear her heart almost beating through her chest.

His eyes travelled up and down her body and his stupid half smile almost made her weak at the knees, "what can I do for you?" he finally asked, it would've sounded polite if he hadn't virtually growled it. The tension was radiating off him, his voice got lower and rougher as she felt him press her into the wall behind her.

She didn't answer him, just held his darkening gaze as she decided to take the direct approach, leading his hand up her thigh and between her legs to press over her. She didn't have to feel herself to know that she was already hot and wet.

They waited a suspended moment, she was expecting him to pull away, decline her offer for doing this in a public stairwell and to wait until they got back to his place, he was waiting for her to change her mind, realise how risky this was and leave him standing there. She realised how long he was taking, she was just about to give up and walk away before he took a shuddering breath and sighed her name as his fingers began to move over her. She gasped as though she'd been shocked, she felt a strong passion filled current run through her as she moaned in pleasure, her head dropping back against the wall behind her.

His lips attached to the juncture between her neck and shoulder, kissing sucking and nibbling at the skin as she pushed her hips further into his hand and forcibly held his head to her. Her other hand grabbed at his shirt sleeve, fisting the fabric and pulling him closer, he was not going _anywhere _until she said so.

He was tiring of touching her without actually touching her; he slid his hand under the waistband of her pants and dragged his fingers through her soaking folds, over and over again until he finally slid them inside her. Her eyes squeezed shut, concentrating hard on this perfect feeling, this feeling that she was trying to get rid of for the last week.

He smashed his lips into her, stopping her from moaning so loudly, they couldn't get caught doing this, couldn't let her get caught out as being a cheating wife, and he didn't really feel like being dragged into the principal's office for indecent exposure.

There was no regret this time, it didn't feel like she felt guilty for cheating on Oscar, for the fact that she was almost screaming 'Mal,' and he sure as hell didn't feel guilty, for the fact that he just didn't like Oscar. And if she didn't want to be here right now, she'd be getting relief off her husband.

At the realisation that that's what she could be doing right now, he fastened the pace, whenever she'd get use to one thing, he'd change it to something else, and he'd catalogue all the moves that'd leave her panting and moaning, the angles that'd leave her quivering and shaking.

His fingers hit a certain spot inside her just as his thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves she was dying for him to touch. She could barely contain the scream, instead letting out a whimper, followed by a low moan, both felt foreign to her ears.

"Mal," she breathed into his ear. She could feel the smirk as he nipped at her neck in response.

At this moment, she really couldn't remember why she'd invested so much of her time trying to keep herself away from this man, keep herself from touching and loving him. She adored him as much as he adored her, they were in love with each other and she completely ruined that by marrying Oscar.

She was drawn off that line of thinking as he kept working her until she was moaning and sighing with each breath.

He pressed her more firmly into the wall, somewhere in the back of his mind was telling him to let off a bit, worried that he was probably hurting her, but judging by the heavy pants and her nails raking down his back, it seemed to be just what she needed right now. It took another second or two for her whole body to tense; he instinctively put a hand over her mouth as a moment later he heard her muffled scream. He kept working her, drawing out every bit of tension left in her.

After a while she finally relaxed and he removed his hand from her mouth as she sucked in the breaths that she'd forgotten to fully inhale in the last minute. She could feel the warm, sated feeling that ran through her, _that _was the feeling that she'd been looking for when she'd hit the gym earlier; warm, relaxed and pleasantly numbing.

He smiled down at her and kissed her more gently then he had earlier, taking the time to suck in her bottom lip.

She looked up at him through hooded eyelids, a lazy smile gracing her features.

"Feel better?" he mumbles into her hairline.

"Much," is all she's able to say.

He let out a small chuckle, giving her one more lasting kiss before, pulling away, "I should probably get back up there before Anders sends out a search party."

"He doesn't like you nearly enough to do that." She tells him, finally seeming to get her voice back.

"Well he likes you, and if I'm not there to tell him that you're fine…" he trails off.

"See you up there then." She smiles.

He turns around walking up the two flights of stairs to get back up to the bullpen, feeling her eyes on his ass all the way there.

0000

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**There are some parts I like, some parts I don't like, either way I feel uncomfortable and gross, never going to get use to writing smut. **

**You're welcome guys.**

**Remember to review and favourite or follow or whatever you kids do these days. :)**


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